For the world I love
by angelic01
Summary: A musical with a plot! After Voldemort's uprising the children of Hogwarts were sent through to 15th century France to escape him. Now he has found a way to follow them, Harry must make the ultimate sacrifice to stop him. H/G and D/Hr.
1. prologue/the refugees

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or songs in this fanfic.  
  
The characters belong to JK Rowling. The songs are from the musical  
  
Notre-Dame de Paris and were written by Luc Plamondon and Will Jennings.  
  
A/N: I hope you like it. This is my first fanfic, so be gentle. Plz  
  
R&R. Oh, and no flames, plz. Constructive criticism only, plz. Enjoy!  
  
Prologue  
  
Somewhere down a Parisian street, a young man stood under the blistering  
  
summer sun. Two years ago, along with several other British witches  
  
and wizards, Oliver Wood had been forced into hiding after the Dark  
  
Lord Voldemort had regained his power.  
  
Voldemort and his followers began a savage attack on muggle-born  
  
witches and wizards and anyone else who stood by them. Many fled the  
  
UK for France or Germany, hoping that Voldemort wouldn't find them.  
  
For a while it seemed as if Voldemort had lost them.  
  
Then, half a year later, there was an outbreak of murders-all of  
  
the murdered a muggle-born witch or wizard. It all pointed to Voldemort  
  
but the final straw came when an entire colony of witches and wizards  
  
hiding out in Marseilles was wiped out by Voldemorts' Death Eaters.  
  
Albus Dumbledore, along with several members of the ministry, opened  
  
a portal, sending a large number of witches and wizards through. He  
  
and the Ministry remained in the 21st century to fight Voldemort,  
  
the witches and wizards he sent through the portal ending up in the  
  
15th century.  
  
Oliver and several others including the 4 youngest Weasley children  
  
and Hermione Granger moved to Paris where they lived as gypsies, singing  
  
and dancing in the streets for money, eventually joining a band of  
  
gypsies living in the Court of Miracles.  
  
Oliver himself now lived the life of a troubadour and street poet.  
  
Here is the story of their lives there and the ultimate sacrifice  
  
as told through his eyes...  
  
***  
  
oliver:  
  
#This is a tale that takes its place  
  
In Paris fair, this year of grace  
  
Fourteen hundred eighty-two  
  
A tale of hate, and love so true  
  
We are the artists of the time  
  
We dream in sculpture, dream in rhyme  
  
For you we bring our world alive  
  
So something will survive.  
  
From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals  
  
The old world began  
  
a new unknown thousand years  
  
For man just has to climb up where the stars are  
  
And live beyond life  
  
Live in glass and live in stone.  
  
Stone after stone, day after day.  
  
From year to year, men made their way  
  
Men had built with faith and love  
  
These cathedrals rose above  
  
We troubadours and poets sing  
  
That love is all and everything  
  
We promise you, all human kind  
  
Tomorrow will be fine.  
  
From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals  
  
The old world began  
  
A new unknown thousand years  
  
For man just has to climb up where the stars are  
  
And live beyond life  
  
Live in glass and live in stone.  
  
From nowhere came the age of the cathedrals  
  
The old world began  
  
A new unknown thousand year  
  
For man just has to climb up where the stars are  
  
And live beyond life  
  
Live in glass and live in stone  
  
But it is doomed the age of the cathedrals  
  
Barbarians wait  
  
At the gates of Paris fair  
  
Ah, let them in these pagans and these vandals  
  
A wise man once said  
  
In two thousand this world ends.  
  
In two thousand this world ends.#  
  
"Ah, hello my friends. Would you like to hear a story? Yes? Come,  
  
gather 'round. This tragic tale I have to tell is the story of a love  
  
and hate so strong. it is the story about a monster of a man full  
  
of hate and obsessed with power and a boy who gave his life to protect  
  
those he loved..."  
  
chapter 1-the refugees  
  
"Where are we" Ron asked as they stood up gingerly. The trip through  
  
the portal had thrown them all off.  
  
"I think the question should be when are we." Oliver said, looking  
  
round. There were no cars, only horse-drawn carriages. The clothes  
  
the people were wearing Oliver had only seen in muggles' period films.  
  
George, one of Ron's brothers went up to one man who was just about  
  
to get into one of the carriages.  
  
"Excuse me, but could you-" he started before the man cut him off,  
  
answering in French. George, who had never learned French couldn't  
  
understand him, so he could only nod.  
  
"To answer you question Ron, we seem to be in France, so unless  
  
there's anyone here who's fluent in French, we're screwed." He said,  
  
coming back to the group, looking uncharacteristically grim. Ginny  
  
whimpered. "I want mum" she said. Fred put his arm around his kid  
  
sister "We all do, but dad and the others need her more. At least  
  
we've still got each other." he said.  
  
Ginny nodded. She knew she was being stupid. She was 16, for crying  
  
out loud! But she was scared. They were in a new place and time that  
  
they knew absolutely nothing about, and the only other person Ginny  
  
had felt really safe around had refused to join them. Harry had said  
  
that if Voldemort found a way to get from their time to this one and  
  
decided to come after them, it would buy them enough time to escape  
  
before Voldemort found out where they were hiding if he went his own  
  
way. Ginny felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. She looked up to  
  
see Oliver smiling kindly at her. She grinned back, the feisty spark  
  
reigniting inside her. If that son of a bitch, Voldemort get the better  
  
of Virginia Weasley, he had another thing coming.  
  
"Hermione, you're the brainy one, how're you at French?" Ron asked,  
  
turning to his best friend. Hermione grinned. "Pretty good, actually."  
  
she said, before dashing over to one of the carriages and speaking  
  
to he driver in French for a good few minutes. She came back looking  
  
a little pale.  
  
"Well, what did he say?" Ron asked. Hermione stared at him and  
  
sighed. How could she say this gently. "well, we're definitely in  
  
France." she said, stalling.  
  
Seamus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, got that." he said drily. "Whereabouts  
  
and when?"  
  
"we're in Paris...in the year 1482." Hermione told them. They all  
  
gaped at her. Continuing, she said "He also said that we should go  
  
and seek asylum at Notre-Dame like the other gypsies."  
  
Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a  
  
headache. "ok, so we need to get to Notre-Dame. Do you have any idea  
  
how to get there?" He asked her. Hermione thought for a moment before  
  
nodding. "I think so. I've been here before, so it shouldn't be too  
  
hard. Of course, the landmarks are a bit different, this being a different  
  
era and all that." she said.  
  
"If we get lost, Hermione can ask for directions again." Ron grinned.  
  
He was so glad he was with Hermione. With a walking library with them,  
  
the group could hardly go wrong. He just wished that Harry had come  
  
with them.  
  
The band of 20 began walking. Neville paused "Shouldn't we wait  
  
for Harry?" He asked tentatively. Everyone looked at Ron and Hermione.  
  
Ron shook his head. "He said he wanted to travel alone and we have  
  
his respect his decision" he said, his face darkening. Oh, Harry.  
  
Why do you have to be so stubborn? He thought.  
  
***  
  
Several hours later they, along with 40 more witches and wizards  
  
and 30 muggle gypsies, arrived at the steps of Notre-Dame. "Now what?"  
  
George asked. Hermione opened her mouth to speak when they spotted  
  
a priest coming towards them. "What do you want, gypsies?" he asked.  
  
Hermione stepped forward. "We have come here to ask asylum." she  
  
said.  
  
"And why should Notre-Dame grant you sanctuary?" asked another  
  
priest. He was tall and thin. He reminded Ron of Professor Snape,  
  
his old Potions teacher. He decided that he didn't like this priest.  
  
Something told him that if the priest could have things his way, all  
  
the gypsies would be executed on the spot. Stepping forward to stand  
  
next to Hermione, he stared to chant;  
  
Ron  
  
#We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees,  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home.  
  
Oh! Notre-Dame  
  
We come and ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum.  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home.  
  
Oh! Notre-Dame  
  
We come and ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum.  
  
At Paris gates we stand  
  
One hundred in our band  
  
And one day soon we'll be  
  
A million in this land  
  
We wonder what you'll do  
  
The day we ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum.#  
  
one by one, the others caught on and began chanting with him;  
  
Refugees  
  
#We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees,  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home.  
  
Oh! Notre-Dame  
  
We come and ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum.#  
  
Ron  
  
#We are the down-and-out  
  
Here at the city gates  
  
And all of Paris waits  
  
To see what we're about.  
  
The world will change someday  
  
We'll make it work some way  
  
When we have come to stay with you.#  
  
One by one, the refugees began to dance in coordination with each  
  
other (A/N-It is a musical remember)  
  
Refugees  
  
#We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees  
  
The men and women  
  
Without a home  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees  
  
The men and women  
  
Without a home  
  
The refugees  
  
#We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees,  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home.  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees,  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home  
  
Oh! Notre-Dame  
  
We come and ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum  
  
We are the strangers here  
  
The refugees  
  
The women and men  
  
Without a home  
  
Oh! Notre-Dame  
  
We come and ask of you  
  
Asylum, asylum  
  
Asylum, asylum!#  
  
They ended their song, breathless from their dancing. The first priest  
  
whom Hermione had asked asylum nodded at them.  
  
"Notre-Dame's doors are always open to those who wish to seek asylum."  
  
he said, ushering them inside. The tall priest glowered at them but  
  
remained silent.  
  
"Where do you think Harry is now?" Hermione asked Ron. He shrugged.  
  
"I don't suppose we'll ever know." He replied.  
  
"Harry's a tough kid. He'll be fine." Oliver said behind them.  
  
Ron and Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice then smiled at him.  
  
Oliver smiled back. The three of them stood in silence, listening  
  
to the rain lashing at the building. Tears pooled in Hermione's eyes  
  
"Oh, god, Harry. I hope please be ok." she whispered. Oliver put his  
  
arm around her gently. "Just pray that he finds somewhere warm to  
  
sleep." he said "One of these saints is bound to hear your prayer."  
  
Not far from the cathedral, a very wet and bedraggled Harry was  
  
praying for the same thing. 


	2. The Bohemian life

Chapter 2-The Bohemian life.  
  
Six months passed. The Hogwarts students soon adjusted to the 15th century way of living. Many of them had moved on and were living somewhere known as the 'Court of Miracles'. Ron, Hermione, Oliver and Ginny were living in the bell tower of Notre-Dame where they were still claiming sanctuary every night, still hoping that Harry would eventually show up. Oliver had become a troubadour and street poet, Hermione and Ginny both taken to dancing and singing in the street. Ron, who had become rather skilled on the hand-made wooden flute he had received from Hagrid before they had left, accompanied them to give them music  
  
to sing and dance to. All things considered, they thought they had it pretty good.  
  
Harry wandered through the Parisian market place. It was the first time he had set foot here since they had been sent here last November. He and Sirius had left Paris and joined a small band of muggle gypsies travelling all over France after Harry had found that Hermione and  
  
the Weaslys' had been sent to Paris, too when he had gone to claim asylum at Notre-Dame. It wasn't that Harry didn't want to be with them, he did. It was just that he was too afraid of losing them if Voldemort came after him.  
  
It was spring now and Sirius had been called back to Britain 2002. That was why Harry was back in Paris, looking for Ron and Hermione. Before Sirius had left, he'd made Harry promise him that he would return to Paris and find his friends so that he wasn't alone. Harry smiled softly to himself. He and Sirius were going to travel to Spain and try their luck there. That had been where Sirius had been hiding out before his name was cleared of the charges of murdering Peter Pettigrew.  
  
"Hello, there." Harry looked down at the little girl who had spoken to him and smiled at her.  
  
"Good day to you, little miss." he replied in French, bending down to talk to her. "Adele! Adele, stay away from him! He's a gypsy, he'll rob you blind." Adel's mother grabbed the little girls hand and pulled her away, glaring at Harry as she did. Harry sighed. He'd gotten used to that kind of treatment months ago but it still hurt. So many people saw gypsies as dirty thieves. Sure, there were some bad ones and yes they might get a bit violent when cornered, as any person would. It wasn't fair that they were all labelled the same.  
  
Harry sighed again. He missed Ron and Hermione. He missed talking about Quidditch and the Chudley Cannons with Ron. He missed Fred and George's tricks and jokes. He laughed, remembering the fiasco with Dudley and the Ton - Tongue Toffee. He even missed Hermione's nagging them about homework and exams. And Ginny. Strangely enough, Harry just could not stop thinking about her. It wasn't until the beginning of what should have been his fifth year and her fourth at Hogwarts that Harry had realised just how wonderful she was. He'd fallen in love with her for her warm heart and her kindness to everyone around her. At the time she was dating Neville so Harry had thought it pointless making his new-found feelings known to her. Even when she and Neville broke up, Harry had kept quiet and they were all sent through the portal, Harry thinking he would never see his friends again, never have the chance to tell Ginny how he really felt. As he walked through the streets of Paris, Harry began to sing;  
  
Harry  
  
#Bohemienne  
  
No one knows where my story begins  
  
Bohimienne  
  
I was born on a road that bends  
  
Bohemienne, Bohemienne  
  
Come tomorrow I'll wander again  
  
Bohemienne, Bohemienne  
  
Here's my fate in the lines of my hands  
  
My godfather told me tales of Spain  
  
I think that's where he longed to be  
  
Of mountain bandits he once sang  
  
Andalusia memory  
  
There in the mountains he was free.  
  
My mother, father all are gone  
  
And I've made Paris be my home  
  
I dream of oceans rolling on  
  
They take my heart where I must come  
  
Andalusia mountain home.  
  
I dream of oceans rolling on  
  
They take my heart where I must come  
  
Andalusia mountain home.  
  
Bohemienne  
  
No one knows where my story begins  
  
Bohemienne  
  
I was born on a road that bends  
  
Bohemienne, bohemienne  
  
Come tomorrow I'll wander again  
  
Bohemienne, bohemienne  
  
Here's my fate in the lines of my hands.  
  
When I was a child at Hogwarts  
  
Barefoot in the hills I danced once  
  
But the gypsy road is so long  
  
The road's so long.  
  
Every day I see a new chance  
  
Maybe some road will lead from France  
  
I will follow till I come home  
  
Till I come home  
  
Andalusia's streams  
  
Run through my blood  
  
Run through my daydreams.  
  
Andalusia's sky  
  
When it calls me  
  
I feel my heart fly  
  
Bohemienne  
  
No one knows where my story begins  
  
Bohemienne  
  
I was born on a road that bends  
  
Bohemienne, bohemienne  
  
Come tomorrow I'll wander again  
  
Bohemienne, bohemienne  
  
Here's my fate in the lines of my hands  
  
Here's my fate in the lines of my hands#  
  
That's me, alright, Harry thought. No one did know where his story began, him included. He started to walk down a little side street when he heard a familiar voice-or rather, a familiar song.  
  
#There is a castle on a cloud  
  
I like to go there in my sleep  
  
Aren't any floors for me to sweep  
  
Not in my castle on a cloud...#  
  
Harry followed the voice and sure enough, it was them. Ron and Hermione. They'd barely changed since Harry had last seen them. Sure, they were a lot leaner, their hair was longer and both were pretty tanned, but then, so was Harry. Ron, Harry noticed, was starting to  
  
get a little bit of ginger stubble on his chin, just as Harry was getting dark stubble. "Ron! Hermione!" he called. They stopped and stared at him for a moment, neither seeming to recognise him. Then Hermione's eyes widened.  
  
"Harry?" she breathed, hardly daring to hope. Harry grinned and nodded. The next thing he knew, he was being enveloped in a giant bear hug from the two of them.  
  
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Ron asked "I thought you said you wanted to be by yourself in cause Voldemort came after you?"  
  
"Harry where are your glasses? How can you see?" Hermione asked, half- laughing, half-crying.  
  
Harry laughed "Whoa, one question at a time! Ron, I wasn't alone. Dumbledore insisted that Sirius went with me so that I wasn't travelling alone. About a week ago, though, Sirius was called back to our time. It seems as if they're getting closer to defeating Voldemort and are needing as much help as they possibly can get. Before he left, Sirius made me promise to come back here and find you two and here I am. Hermione, my glasses kept getting broken, so Sirius used a seeing charm which corrected my sight enough so that I could get rid of my  
  
glasses." He informed them. "My turn. Where are you living and where's Ginny and the twins?" Harry asked.  
  
"Me, Hermione, Ginny and Oliver are living in the bell tower of Notre- Dame. Oliver's a troubadour and street poet now and Ginny- well Ginny is pretty much doing the same as Hermione and me, only she dances. She's actually at the cathedral now. She hurt her ankle the other day, so she's taking it easy today. The twins are living somewhere called the 'Court of Miracles'. To be honest with you, we haven't really seen Fred and George for a while now." Ron said.  
  
Harry paled "You don't mean they're dead!?" he exclaimed. Ron laughed and shook his head. "No, stupid, they're not dead. I just mean that we've not seen much of each other for a while now. You know how it is, we've all got our own lives. It happens." his face darkened for a moment.  
  
"Harry, I'll bet you're just dying to see Ginny and Oliver again, huh?" Hermione said. Harry grinned and nodded. They began walking back to the cathedral, still talking about this and that.  
  
"What is the 'Court of Miracles'?" Harry asked as they neared the cathedral. "Oh, it's this place where just about all the gypsies in Paris live. No one but us knows where it is." Hermione said. She looked up and started yelling;  
  
"OLIVER! OLIVER!" Harry looked up at the figure running towards them. Oliver was another one who had barely changed. Again, he was a lot leaner, his hair was longer and he had a tan. He also had a fair bit more facial hair than Ron and Harry, but it was Oliver all  
  
the same. "Oliver, look! It's Harry! He came back!" Hermione was saying  
  
"Harry, I barely would have recognised you. You've changed so much!" Oliver said, hugging him.  
  
Harry laughed and returned the hug. he hadn't been this happy since...well, since Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup in his 3rd year in the match against Slytherin. "I think we've all changed a lot." he said. "Wait till you see Ginny" Hermione said, dragging Harry towards the cathedral doors.  
  
***  
  
Hermione was right. Harry barely recognised the young woman in front of him as the Ginny he'd last seen just under a year ago. She'd filled out and had a lovely light honey tan. Her deep red hair tumbled in wild curls down her back and framed her elvish face. Harry couldn't  
  
get over how beautiful she'd turned out to be. "Ginny?" He whispered. Ginny stared at him with her large doe-like brown eyes. "Harry?" When he nodded, her face lit up as she threw herself at him, giving him as big a bear hug as she could manage. She couldn't believe that this young man standing in front of her, with his arms around her was Harry. He'd grown a lot and was a lot leaner, not skinny, like he used to be. His olive-coloured skin only made his green eyes stand out more and his black hair curling over his collar made him look even more  
  
sexy. She'd always loved him for his kindness and his bravery. Now, she could feel herself falling for him even more.  
  
Harry grinned to himself. Surrounded by his best friends, he felt  
  
that nothing could possibly go wrong.  
  
***  
  
"Lucius!" Voldemort shouted.  
  
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward. "Yes, Master?" He asked.  
  
"Your son knew Potter, isn't that right?" Voldemort said "used to go to Hogwarts with him."  
  
"That's right. But, master, I don't know what the significance is. Why do you ask?"  
  
"I know where Potter is." Voldemort replied "Is your son ready for his mark?" Malfoy nodded. "I want him to go undercover. He will go to Dumbledore posing as a renegade and ask to be sent to where Potter and his little friends are. His Mark will tell me where he is, allowing me to open a portal to where Harry and his little friends are hiding out. It's time to finish what I started 17 years ago."  
  
"But master-"  
  
"No 'buts'. That is my order."  
  
"But master, I don't understand. Where is Potter? What do you mean by 'portal'-AARGH!" Malfoy suddenly found himself flying halfway across the room.  
  
"You ask to many questions!" Voldemort yelled. He took a deep breathe then continued. "You will find out in good time. Just trust me." Malfoy nodded, bowed and left.  
  
***  
  
At Hogwarts castle.  
  
"Albus, there is a Mr. Draco Malfoy to see you." Minerva Mcgonegall told Dumbledore, giving him a pointed look. Dumbledore sighed. "Let him through, Minerva." Minerva stepped aside, somewhat reluctantly, to allow a tall blonde-haired young man into his office.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose there's a reason why you have come to see me." Dumbledore said. He didn't trust this man, he knew full well that his father was Voldemort's right-hand man. Therefore the last thing he expected was Draco Malfoy to start crying. Evidently, neither did Minerva, who shot him an alarmed look as she gently put a comforting hand on the stricken young man's shoulder.  
  
"I'm s-s-sorry to b-bother you, Professor Dumbledore. I know what you m- must think of m-m-me but I didn't know w-where else to turn!" Draco sobbed. "I-I-If they knew I was here they would k-kill me!"  
  
"Mr Malfoy, try to calm down. Start at the beginning. Who will kill you?" Dumbledore said soothingly, handing Draco a tissue. Draco accepted the tissue, blowing his nose loudly. He took a deep breath and began;  
  
"My father-and Voldemort. They want me to become a Death Eater like dad. Only I don't want to become a Death Eater! I've seen what they do, the torture they inflict on their victims. I don't want to do that! It's wrong to prejudice against people just because of their blood, I know that now. Please, Professor Dumbledore, you've got to help me." Draco implored.  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Mr Malfoy, have you received your Dark Mark?" He asked.  
  
"I was supposed to receive it last night but I ran away before they had the chance." Draco had received the Dark Mark only his was on his back where no one would see it.  
  
Dumbledore studied the young man in front of him for a moment then nodded slowly. "Very well, Mr Malfoy. What we'll do is send you through a portal to a different time frame where Voldemort doesn't exist. No one but those inside this castle know about this so Voldemort won't be able to find you." He stood up, gesturing for Draco to do the same.  
  
They walked to the far end of the room where a rectangle had been drawn on the wall.  
  
"Any preferences as to where you want to be sent?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Er...if you don't mind, where was Harry Potter sent? Only they are the only people I know who isn't on Voldemort's side." Draco said "and I wish to apologise for the harm I've caused him and his friends in the past." he added, noticing Dumbledore's dubious expression.  
  
"Mr Malfoy, I'm afraid none of us know where they are now, specifically, only the time frame and place they were sent originally." the professor said.  
  
"May I be sent to the same place, please?" Draco asked. Dumbledore thought about it for a minute then nodded "Very well, Mr Malfoy." He pointed his wand at the rectangle on the wall and murmured some world which Draco didn't catch.  
  
The room went suddenly cold and a strange wind caught at Draco's hair and clothes. When he looked back at the wall the rectangle was now a dense swirling mist. He walked towards the wall of mist and paused in front of it. He raised a trembling hand and reached through  
  
the doorway. It was so cold. Draco glanced back at Dumbledore who smiled encouragingly. Draco's mouth set in a hard line. Turning back to the mist he took a deep breathe and stepped through and felt himself falling, falling...  
  
Dumbledore shut his eyes. "Good luck to you, Draco Malfoy." 


	3. What Have I Done?

Chapter 3-What Have I done?  
  
Disclaimer: U know the drill, all characters you recognise here belong  
  
to JK Rowling and the songs belong to Herbert Kretzer. No 'Notre-Dame  
  
de Paris' songs this time.  
  
A/N: third chapter! I'm sorry if it's crap. Thing is, I can have a  
  
good idea for the start and end of a story-I already know how this  
  
one ends-it's just trying to fill in the bits in the middle! Any ideas  
  
will be welcome! Again, plz no flames, constructive criticism only.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"OOF!" Draco fell with a thud. He stood up carefully, shaking his  
  
head to get rid of the wooziness. He laughed out loud, hardly believing  
  
that the old fool had bought his story. Looking around him, Draco  
  
guessed that he was in the red light district of Paris although he  
  
couldn't rightly say what time frame.  
  
"Excuse me, what year it is?" He asked a passing couple.  
  
"1482, sir." the man replied.  
  
"Do you by chance know of anywhere I can stay? I don't have any  
  
money."  
  
"No money? In that case you should go to Notre-Dame and claim sanctuary,  
  
like the other gypsies." the woman said. Draco thanked her and began  
  
walking, trying to ignore the prostitutes tempting him as he passed.  
  
prostitute 1  
  
#Lovely ladies  
  
Waiting for a bite  
  
Waiting for the customers  
  
Who only come at night#  
  
prostitute 2  
  
#Lovely ladies ready for the call  
  
Standing up or lying down  
  
Or any way at all  
  
Bargain prices up against the wall!#  
  
prostitute 3  
  
#Lovely ladies  
  
Waiting in the dark  
  
Ready for a thick one  
  
Or a quick one in the park#  
  
Prostitute 4  
  
#Long time, short time  
  
Any time, my dear  
  
Cost a little extra if you want to take all year  
  
Quick and cheap is underneath the pear!#  
  
"No, thank you." Draco said. He laughed at their attempts. It would  
  
take a lot more than that to interest him. But the next voice did  
  
catch his attention, but not for the the reason he would have thought.  
  
young prostitute  
  
#Lovely ladies  
  
Going for a song  
  
Got a lot of callers  
  
But they never stay for long.#  
  
She was barely thirteen! Draco paused in front of her.  
  
"Do you not have a home?" He asked her.  
  
She nodded "of course I have. I live with everyone else you see  
  
here."  
  
"How long have you been doing this?" Draco asked suspiciously.  
  
"One year." She said. Draco nodded. He'd thought as much. "how  
  
old are you?"  
  
"twelve." The girl replied.  
  
Draco was horrified. He took the young girl's hand. "you don't  
  
have to do this, you know. There are people who will help you, surely!"  
  
The girl stared at him. "That may be so where you're from but here  
  
it's either this or live as a gypsy. Besides, it's easy money." She  
  
turned away from him but Draco didn't move. "If you're not wanting  
  
my services, would you please move away as you're scaring off potential  
  
customers!" She said impatiently.  
  
Stunned at her words, Draco turned away and began walking again.  
  
What a life to have to live. To have to sell your body at such a young  
  
age just to keep a roof over your head and have food in your stomach.  
  
And this was what he was unleashing Voldemort on. He would skin them  
  
alive, regardless of their plight! Draco shook his head. Much as he  
  
detested muggles at the best of times he couldn't allow Voldemort  
  
destroy this world as he undoubtedly would. These people had enough  
  
problems as it was.  
  
But just as he was going to turn back, Draco felt a searing pain  
  
on his back, where his Dark Mark was. Voldemort. He was here. Draco's  
  
Mark burned again, more fiercely this time, forcing Draco to his knees.  
  
The pain eventually subsided and Draco shakily got to his feet. He  
  
had to find Harry, he had to warn him.  
  
Suddenly Draco heard a scream from the alley he had just left.  
  
Turning around he gasped at what he saw. Hovering just above the roof  
  
tops, wreathed in green smoke, was a giant skull with a snake protruding  
  
from it's mouth like some kind of horrendous tongue. The mark of Voldemort.  
  
Which only meant one thing. Someone was already dead. Oh my God. Draco  
  
thought, backing away.  
  
Draco  
  
#What have I done  
  
Sweet Jesus, what have I done?  
  
Came here like a thief in the night!  
  
Now they're like dogs on the run!  
  
Have I fallen so far  
  
And is the hour so late  
  
That nothing remains but the cry of my hate  
  
The cries in the dark that nobody hears  
  
Here where I stand at turning of the years.#  
  
"I have to warn Harry." Draco said to himself. Saying that he turned  
  
and started walking, his heart full of guilt and dread.  
  
A/N: ok, so what do you think? Sorry the starts been so slow, but  
  
I promise it will get more exciting from here on in. Also, I think  
  
my summary is a bit misleading, saying that it's told through Oliver's  
  
eyes. Although it's him telling the story at the beginning, it's not  
  
told through Oliver's POV. So, sorry for those who were looking for  
  
an Oliver Wood story.  
  
But they never stay for long.# 


	4. Hello Again

Chapter 4-Hello Again. 

Hermione was walking through the market place when she saw him. 

It had been a good few years since she'd last seen him but she would 

recognise that swagger anywhere. Draco Malfoy. Hermione's eyes narrowed. 

What was that bastard doing here. Whatever it was, she would bet her 

life that it was something to do with Voldemort. She had already heard 

people talking about a skull appearing in the night sky, wreathed 

in green smoke, not to mention the fact that a young girl was killed 

only moments before. That was probably why Draco was here, to find 

Harry and turn him over to Voldemort. 

He stopped to speak to one of the stall owners. Hermione decided 

to corner him where he couldn't get away or try to curse her. She 

started towards the blonde man but almost as soon as she had took 

one step, he'd started walking. Cursing under her breathe, Hermione 

started following him. 

Draco had seen her, of course. With that hair, who could miss her. 

Although, admittedly, it wasn't quite as bushy as it had been the 

last time he'd seen Hermione, it still made her stand out like a sore 

thumb. He also had a good idea what she was trying to do. Corner him 

in a crowded place so that he couldn't hex her or something. She needn't 

have worried, though. After what he'd seen since last night, Draco 

found himself looking at Hermione in a new light, almost with respect. 

Besides, he wanted to help them, not kill them-well, not yet, anyway. 

When Draco finally found the cathedral, all he could do was stare 

at it in awe at first. It was amazing, beautiful even. Climbing the 

steps, Draco knocked on the door when he reached it. "Who goes there?" 

A voice from behind the door asked in French. Draco replied in the 

same language. "My name is Draco Malfoy. I wish to claim sanctuary." 

The door was opened a smiling priest. "Your wish will be granted. 

You may stay within Notre-Dame's walls for a long as you wish, provided 

that you respect the sanctity of the church and keep to the rules." 

he said holding the door open for Draco. "Where am I to sleep, if 

I may ask?" he asked the priest. The priest thought for a minute then 

said; "You may sleep in the bell tower with the other gypsies who 

live here." With that, the priest walked away, leaving Draco alone 

with his thoughts. 

*** 

When she saw him walk up to the doors of Notre-Dame, Hermione had 

hung back so that she wouldn't be seen. She'd waited a few minutes 

after he had gone in then dashed up the steps and, as silently as 

she could, entered the church, keeping to the shadows , never losing 

sight of Draco. 

Draco wandered around the cathedral staring in amazement at the 

grand statues and the stained glass windows. He had never been in 

a church in his life, his father thought they were muggle nonsense. 

Now, though, Draco saw that they were much more than that. This place 

alone was like one gigantic work of art! He stopped and looked up 

at a statue of a woman holding a small child in her arms. "Who is 

that?" he asked an old man who was kneeling in one of the aisles (Draco 

didn't yet know the correct term for them) The man stared at him as 

if he were mad. "She is the Ave Maria. See, she's holding the baby 

Jesus. We pray to her and the Lord for help and for forgiveness." 

Draco smiled, not his usual smirk, but a kind and almost pensive smile. 

He walked up to the statue until he was right in front of it and stared 

up at the stone face of the Ave Maria. Could a statue really hear 

his prayer. And if she could, would she really help him, when there 

were more worthy people in even greater need of her help or forgiveness. 

But that was all Draco wanted. Help for those who needed it...and 

forgiveness for himself. Kneeling down, Draco began to pray. 

Draco 

Maria 

Please pardon me 

If in your house 

I have come stealing 

Ave Maria 

No one ever taught me about kneeling 

Ave Maria 

Please will you keep me 

From all the misery, madness and fools 

Who rule this evil world? 

Ave Maria 

I am a stranger and you are my last recourse.# 

The old man Draco had spoken to smiled at the young man kneeling 

before the Ave Maria. Recent events had them all praying to the Almighty 

for help. Without a word, the man left. 

Draco 

#Ave Maria 

Please can't you hear me 

Please take down all these wall between us 

We all should live as one 

Ave Maria 

Please watch over my life night and day. 

Ave Maria 

Oh! Please protect me 

Please guard me and my love now I pray 

Ave Maria.# 

Draco bowed his head, praying silently now. Hermione, who had been 

hiding in the shadows, saw her chance and crept forward, pulling her 

knife from her belt at the same time. 

Draco, finished with praying, moved to stand up when he felt a 

cold blade held against his throat. He grinned wryly 

"Hermione." 

"Draco Malfoy." 

"So nice to see you remember me-" The feel of the pressure of the 

blade against his throat increasing slightly shut Draco up. 

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione growled. 

"Do you really want to know or would you prefer to just kill me?" 

Draco asked sarcastically. 

Hermione stepped back, placing her knife back in her belt. "much 

as that idea appeals to me, this is a house of God and I respect the 

sanctity of the church, if only because it keeps a roof over my head." 

Draco glowered at her, then sighed. "If you must know, I'm here 

because of Voldemort. I was supposed to lead him to Potter-" 

"I knew it!" Hermione cut in. 

"But that's not why I'm here now!" Draco said hastily "Don't get 

me wrong, if we were back home I would hand Potter over in a heartbeat. 

But here...I've only been in Paris for barely less than a day and 

I've already seen there's enough suffering here without inflicting 

Voldemort on them. Though I'm afraid I might already be too late." 

He hung his head, for once ashamed to be who he was. He could almost 

feel Hermione's disapproval burning into him and that...hurt. Draco 

didn't know why but he wanted her to approve of him, wanted her to 

like him. He glanced at her and saw pity in her eyes. 

"He's here, isn't he? In Paris, I mean." Draco nodded then sighed 

in frustration "Hermione, I'm sorry, so sorry. If I'd only known what 

he would do I never would have gone through with all this. As it is 

I don't think he can track me here, this being a holy place and all." 

He glanced at their surroundings, noticing that it had filled up a

bit and they were now getting some curious looks. "erm...Hermione, 

There isn't anywhere where we can talk in private?" Hermione paused 

for a moment then, grabbing his hand, led to the bell tower. 

Looking around him, Draco saw in that there were three 'donkey's 

breakfasts''s in one of the far corners and another two in the opposite 

corner. In the middle of the room was a crude looking wooden table 

surrounded by five wooden crates which obviously served as seats. 

Sitting on one of them was...Ron Weasley! 

"Malfoy!" When Ron saw who had entered the room behind Hermione 

he leapt off his seat in surprise. "What are you doing here?" he asked, 

his eyes narrowed suspiciously, automatically reaching for the knife 

he carried on his belt. Even though they still had their wands, Ron, 

Hermione, Ginny and Oliver never used them while in the church, they 

couldn't risk being caught out and being accused of heresy. 

"Ron, no! It's alright, he's safe. Just-let him explain." Hermione 

said quickly, putting an arm in front of Draco as if to protect him. 

Ron paused then lowered his knife, still looking at Draco suspiciously. 

Hermione gestured for Draco to take a seat and sat down herself, 

pulling Ron down with her. Draco sat down opposite the two of them, 

eyeing Ron warily. "Where do you want me to start?" He asked. 

"Why don't you start from the beginning." Hermione suggested. So 

Draco told them about how Voldemort had found out about Dumbledore's plan by using the Imperious charm on 

Anabella Goldsmith, 

a Death Eater who had let Voldemort down on some task or other (Draco 

wasn't very sure of the details), and made her go to Dumbledore for 

help. When she returned and told Voldemort what he wanted to know, 

he killed her. After that, he had summoned Draco and given him his 

Dark Mark (here Draco showed Ron and Hermione the skull burned into 

his back). He told them how he went to Hogwarts and asked Dumbledore 

for help, pretending that he had 'seen the error of his ways' and 

had been sent here. He told them about Voldemort following him and 

killing a young woman in the street he landed in with the Avada Kedavra 

curse and ended with him coming to Notre-Dame for asylum until he 

found Harry to warn him. 

By the time Draco had finished, Hermione and Ron had paled. Ron 

looked at Draco with undisguised contempt. "How do we know you're 

telling the truth? That this isn't some elaborate plot to lure Harry 

into a trap?" He asked. 

"You don't. You're just going to have to trust me." Draco sighed. 

Ron snorted with disbelief. 

"Ron, Please." Hermione pleaded. Ron stared at her for a moment 

then nodded. "yeah, you're right," he conceded "so what are we going 

to do now?" 

"Well, I'd suggest finding Harry and bringing him back here where 

he'll be safe." Draco replied. Hermione nodded "sounds good to me," 

she said, standing up. 

"I'll go." Ron said, following suit. "You stay here with Malfoy. 

That way at least I know you're safe and Draco hasn't ran off to tell 

Voldemort." Draco looked indignant and was about to say something 

when Oliver walked in. 

"Ah, Oliver. You can come with me to find Harry and Ginny." Ron 

said, grabbing Oliver's arm as he was passing and guided him towards 

the stairs. 

"What? Is that Draco Malfoy?" Oliver was confused. "Yeah, I'll 

tell you on the way." Ron said. The last thing Hermione and Draco 

heard Ron say as he was going down the stairs was something which 

sounded suspiciously like; "I can't believe I'm trusting a Malfoy." 


	5. Authers note

I forgot the disclaimer on that last chapter. The song in there is from 'Notre-Dame de Paris'. Sorry if chapter 4 is a little crap. It'll be a while before I get chapter 5 up, seeing as I'm having trouble writing it. I'll soon have another story up soon, so keep an eye out for that. One more thing-thanks to Ophie, Nataly Ravenlock, Citoyenne Ainsley, Kaleniphredil and Phoebe Smith for reviewing my story and I promise to anyone else reading this that it will get more interesting.  
  
Angelic01 


	6. Voldemort is Back

Chapter 5-Voldemort is Back.  
  
OK people, chapter 5's finally up. All the characters you recognise belong to JK Rowling, the song used in this chapter belongs to Interscope records and David Baerwald. Thank you to my beta reader, Pamela Northrup.  
  
"Do you really think it was Voldemort?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I hope I'm wrong but..." he shook his head. It was just typical that this should happen the same day that he'd found his friends again. Last night, Harry and Ginny had been sitting by the window talking long after everyone else had gone to sleep. A silence had lapsed in their conversation and they'd both glanced at the night sky, where a thousand stars seemed to shine. In the distance they heard a scream, but it didn't bother them too much, they'd soon learned that if it wasn't one of them, it wasn't worth worrying over too much. Then they saw It. Something they'd both hoped they'd never  
  
see again. Hovering in the night sky above the rooftops of Paris, was the Dark Mark, which could only mean one thing; Harry was in trouble. They'd both silently agreed not to tell the others until they were sure that it was definitely connected to Voldemort.  
  
"What are you going to do if it is him?" Ginny asked. Again, Harry shrugged. He looked so lost and dejected that Ginny's heart went out to him. She wanted so badly to just hug him, but didn't know if he would let her. She patted his arm instead. He placed his hand over hers, surprising the two of them. They sat like that for a while. Tentatively, Ginny turned her hand over and interlaced her fingers with Harry's.  
  
Harry stared at their clasped hands. He had to tell her. She had to at least know how he felt about her. "I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you or the others." He said slowly, raising his eyes to hers. Ginny blushed slightly under the intensity of his gaze but held it all the same. "I would die before letting anyone harm you,"  
  
Ginny felt tears prick her eyes. "And I'd die before I let anyone harm you." she said, hugging him. As Harry hugged her back, he knew his heart was lost to her, Ron's sister or not.  
  
"Harry? What's wrong?" Ginny asked when she realised how silent Harry had gone. Harry looked at her . Her eyes- her beautiful eyes, Harry realised, were full of concern. "Nothing. I was just thinking."  
  
"About Voldemort?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. I was just thinking about...well..." Harry tailed off. He didn't think there were any words to describe what he was thinking. Feeling. Gazing at Ginny, Harry began to sing;  
  
Harry  
  
#Never knew I could feel like this  
  
It's like I've never seen the sky before  
  
Want to vanish inside your kiss  
  
Every minute I'm loving you  
  
More and more.  
  
Listen to my heart,  
  
Can you hear it sing?  
  
Telling me to give you everything.  
  
Seasons may change  
  
Winter to spring,#  
  
Ginny held her breathe, hardly believing this was real.  
  
Harry  
  
#But I love you  
  
Until the end of time  
  
Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day.#  
  
There, he'd said it. Ginny stared at him, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.  
  
"I'm sorry." Harry said, standing up "I shouldn't have said any of that."  
  
"No, Harry" Ginny stood up too, taking Harry's hand. Softly, she began to sing back to him  
  
Ginny  
  
#Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
  
It all revolves around you#  
  
Harry put his arms around her waist and began to sing with her;  
  
Harry&Ginny  
  
#And there's no mountain too high  
  
No river to wide.  
  
Sing out this song  
  
And I'll be there by you're side  
  
Storm clouds may gather and stars may collide  
  
Harry  
  
#But I love you  
  
Ginny  
  
#I love you  
  
Harry  
  
#Until the end of time  
  
Ginny  
  
#Until the end of time  
  
Harry&Ginny  
  
#Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day  
  
Oh come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you...  
  
Ginny  
  
#I will love you  
  
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
  
Harry&Ginny  
  
#Come what may  
  
Come what may  
  
I will love you  
  
Until my dying day!#  
  
"I love you." Harry whispered, bringing his head closer to Ginny's. She tilted her face up slightly. He was so close, she could feel his breathe warm against her lips. Any moment now they would—  
  
"AHEM!"  
  
Harry and Ginny jumped apart guiltily at the sound of Ron's voice. Looking up, they saw Ron and Oliver grinning at the pair of them.  
  
"Much as I hate you break this little romantic interlude up, we've got problems. Big ones." Ron said, his grin fading.  
  
Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, alarmed. "What do you mean, 'problems'?" Harry asked.  
  
"Voldemort."  
  
"So it was him." Ginny said, glancing at Harry.  
  
He nodded. "Looks that way."  
  
Ron and Oliver stared at them. "Is there something you're not telling us?" Oliver asked suspiciously. Glancing at each other, as if to say, 'Oh well. Cat's out of the bag', Harry and Ginny explained to Ron and Oliver about last night's occurrences. The scream and the Dark Mark in the night sky. Ron and Oliver paled at the mention of the Dark Mark. "Why didn't either of you tell any of us?" Oliver asked.  
  
Ginny shrugged. "We didn't want to worry anyone, I guess," she said.  
  
"Anyway, how do the two of you know about Voldemort?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron snorted. "Draco Malfoy, that's how," he said, and proceeded to tell Harry and Ginny what Draco had told him and Hermione.  
  
"Do you believe him?" Ginny asked.  
  
Ron shrugged. "I don't know. We're just going to have to trust him, especially after what you two have just told us."  
  
"Where's Malfoy now?" Harry asked.  
  
"He's at the cathedral with Hermione." Ron replied.  
  
"Which is probably a good reason why we should be heading back there." Oliver said, glancing around nervously s if he were expecting Voldemort to suddenly appear.  
  
So the four of them began walking back towards the cathedral, unaware of the figure watching them from the shadows.  
  
"Oh, Draco," Peter whispered. "What would your father say?" With that, he apparated back to his master. 


	7. What Now?

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. The song belongs to Herbert Kretzmer.  
  
A/N: Not many songs this time. There should be more songs in the next chapter. Once again, thank you to my wonderful beta reader, Trillian42. Thanks also to everyone who's reviewed so far. I do appreciate your thoughts. Oh, id anyone likes this story and would like me to e-mail them when the next chapter's up, say so in your review or send me an e-mail and I'll do so. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 6 - What Now?  
  
Draco stared at Hermione, trying to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence between them. When he thought about, it she wasn't that bad-looking - "no, what are you thinking?! This is Granger we're talking about. Granger is not attractive!" But it wasn't the first time that Draco had thought this. He remembered back in their fourth year at Hogwarts at the Yule Ball. You probably could have knocked Draco over with a feather that night when Granger had entered the Hall. Her robes had been periwinkle blue and her hair, Draco remembered, had been sleeked down for the night and tied in a knot at the back of her head. That was also the year that Voldemort had been resurrected, Draco reminded himself  
  
darkly. To distract himself from those thoughts, he looked at Hermione now. Her hair was still bushy but her face, which had once irked Draco with it's Holier-Than-Thou Smart Alec look, now seemed to bear wisdom beyond any books ever written. Her eyes, Draco now saw, were eyes that had seen death and suffering. Her eyes were of a mind that had experienced far too much suffering for it's years. Gone was the girl that had so annoyed Draco throughout his time at Hogwarts. In her place was a young woman whom Draco found that he admired and respected.  
  
Hermione felt his eyes burning into her. "What?" She asked. Draco started slightly and for a moment seemed lost for words.  
  
"Granger, do you remember the Yule Ball during our fourth year?" He asked, finally.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows "Malfoy, I think I can remember that whole year. If I remember rightly, you told us that 'mudbloods and muggle-lovers' would be the first to go."  
  
"I was right." Draco said.  
  
"Yeah, you were. Which is exactly why I don't trust you."  
  
"I'm not proud of my past, Granger. But we can't change the past. Does it mean anything that I'm trying to change now." Draco asked, taking hold of her hand across the table.  
  
Hermione stared at his hand covering hers. "I don't know. Are you?"  
  
Draco sighed. "Yes. I understand why you're less than trusting of me, but I'm not lying this time. When I came here last night and saw how much suffering there already is in the muggle world that it really hit me how horribly wrong what Voldemort is doing really is. He would tear this world - this time - apart. One person, at least, is already dead because of me. I don't want any more blood on my hands."  
  
For the first time, Hermione saw Draco in a new light. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying a great weight. His face seemed to Hermione to have prematurely aged several years, the eyes seemed full of suffering and confusion. And suddenly, all of her anger, her hatred and her suspicion of him seemed to disappear.  
  
"You have no idea what it's like." Draco said, looking down at his hands, not wanting to look Hermione in the eye. "I don't want to see more innocent people suffering at Voldemort's hands and yet the thought that I've betrayed him makes me feel sick with guilt. It's not all about hating mud - muggle-borns and halfbloods, you see. Voldemort offered us power beyond any witch or wizard's wildest dreams. Anything we wanted, be it money, power, women - don't look like that, you know fine well that's what a lot of men would ask for," he said, glancing up and seeing Hermione's disgusted look. "Anything we wanted,  
  
Voldemort gave us, on the condition that we follow him and do whatever he says. A lot of the Death Eaters can't stand what he does, but are too afraid to leave. If they did, they would almost certainly be killed. Some of them, my father included, really believe in the shit he spurts out, about how purebloods are the only wizards worthy of knowing magic and how anyone of muggle parentage or anyone 'in league with them had to be destroyed. Even I believed it." He hung his head, ashamed. "Even now the urge to turn you all over to  
  
him is still there, at the back of my mind, tempting me."  
  
For a moment neither of them spoke. "Well, at least you're being honest with me." Hermione said, at last. Draco smiled weakly. "And honest with yourself. You know where you weakness lies, Malfoy. You can change that. You've changed already, just by being here and confessing - to me, Hermione 'mudblood' Granger, of all people!" Draco winced at the reference to his nickname for her at school. "Because of you," Hermione continued, "we've got more of a fighting chance against Voldemort." Boldly, Hermione began to sing;  
  
Hermione  
  
#Red - the blood of angry men!  
  
Black - the dark of ages past!  
  
Red - a world about to dawn!  
  
Black - the night that ends at last!#  
  
Draco smiled. But he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that. Voldemort would still be there, inside his head. He inwardly cringed as he felt yet another stab of pain in his back as Voldemort tried to contact him. "I wish it was a simple as that, Granger. But he'll still be here" he said, tapping his head, to indicate where 'here' was. To prove his point, he began to sing, a mockery of Hermione's words;  
  
Draco  
  
#Red - I feel my soul on fire!  
  
Black - my world if he's not there!  
  
Red - the colour of desire!  
  
Black - the colour of despair!#  
  
"So you see," Draco said, gently placing his hand on Hermione's cheek - he hadn't realised that they were standing so close - "You'd be better off killing me now, before the temptation gets too strong." Hermione shook her head, taking his hand in hers. "I can't do that." She whispered.  
  
"Why?" Draco asked. Confusion clouded Hermione's face. There was one question she didn't have an answer to. Draco began to lean towards her when the sound of Ron's voice from below made them jump apart , almost guiltily. Draco sat back down at the table an Hermione crossed to the window.  
  
"We're back!" Ron called, thundering up the stairs.  
  
"Whoop-de-doo." Draco muttered, darkly.  
  
"Draco." Hermione said warningly. Draco shut up.  
  
Ron's head appeared below them in the stairwell, followed by the rest of him. Oliver followed, wincing at the noise Ron was making clattering up the stairs. "Ron, no offence, mate, but do you really have to thunder up them stairs like a pet elephant?" He asked on entering the room. Harry and Ginny were last to enter. Harry stared coldly at Draco and sat down opposite him.  
  
"What do you know about Voldemort?" was the first thing he said.  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows sardonically. No matter what his situation, he wasn't going to give in to Potter that easily. "Say please."  
  
"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands here, Malfoy." Harry said, his green eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
Draco glanced from Harry, to Ron, to Oliver and licked his lips nervously. He didn't fancy getting into a fight with any of them as they looked as if they could all kill him without even trying. He may have had his wand and been trained in the Dark Arts, these guys were armed with more than just magic; they all had a knife attached to their belts - and they had muscle. Oliver in particular, who Draco remembered always being on the burly side, looked as though he could crush Draco's skull without even breaking a sweat. Obviously, living rough had had at least one good outcome. He looked back at Harry, who was still waiting for his answer.  
  
"What happened to your glasses?"  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and took a deep breath to calm himself down.  
  
"Malfoy, just answer the question." Ron sighed. He could see that Harry and Oliver were beginning to lose patience with Malfoy already. Oliver's fists were tightly clenched at his sides and a muscle was beginning to twitch in Harry's jaw. Ginny went over and, sitting down next to Harry, took his hand. Harry glanced at her and visibly relaxed.  
  
"Listen, Malfoy. I already know how you got here and why you came here in the first place. What I'm asking is, what else do you know about Voldemort. His whereabouts, for example, anything which could help us out." Harry said.  
  
Draco sighed. "All I know is that he's got a whole bloody army. Death Eaters, vampires, dementors, you name it, he's got it." He cried out as a fresh wave of pain hit him.  
  
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side.  
  
"Dark Mark," Draco said, as the pain eased off again. "He's beginning to get very insistent."  
  
"It seems we've already lost," Oliver said despondently. "If Voldemort's got an army of vampires and dementors, what are we supposed to do?"  
  
"We create an army of our own!" Ron exclaimed. "There are two hundred witches and wizards in Paris alone, who would be more than happy to fight against Voldemort. Most of them are gypsies like us, so there's more to them than just twiddling a wand and saying some choice words. And then there's the muggle gypsies at the Court of Miracles. They know about us, thanks to Fred and George's antics. They'll fight tooth and nail against Voldemort, whether we ask them to or not! So Voldemort's got dark magic and creatures on his side. We've got magic, strength and stamina on out side, not to mention loyalty. Half of  
  
those Death Eaters'll turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble!"  
  
The others stared at Ron in amazement. None of them had ever seen him like this. There was a mad gleam in his eye and all at once he seemed capable of leading an army of one thousand men to victory.  
  
"First thing tomorrow, I'll go to the Court of Miracles and tell Fred and George what's happening. Then we'll address the whole Court. Tomorrow we'll attack and anyone who gets in our way will be killed." Ron continued, looking pointedly at Draco. "That includes your dad if the occasion calls for it, Malfoy."  
  
"Unless..." Everyone looked at Hermione. "Unless you can somehow convince him to help us," she continued. "I mean, look at it this way. If we had someone who was right in Voldemort's circle on our side then we might stand a better chance. He might tell us something that we could use against Voldemort."  
  
Draco shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Voldemort has got him totally taken in. It would take a miracle from heaven to change his mind."  
  
"But you're his son! Surely that must mean something to him!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
Draco smiled sadly. "One time it would. He's too far gone now. When he finds out that I've betrayed Voldemort then I'll just become another name on his 'To Kill' list."  
  
"Will you not even try?" Harry asked. His voice was a lot gentler now but there was still a glimmer of cold, grim determination in his eyes.  
  
Draco, after several minutes thought, nodded resignedly. "I'll try. But not now. Not tonight. I'm just too tired."  
  
"Aye, it's getting late, by the looks of things." Oliver said, glancing out at the rapidly darkening sky. "We'd best turn in early tonight as we're going to have a long day tomorrow."  
  
***  
  
"Wormtail, did you manage to locate young Malfoy?" Voldemort asked  
  
Peter nodded. "I did, Lord." He said.  
  
"Well? Has he found the boy yet?" Voldemort asked impatiently.  
  
Again, Pettigrew nodded. "He has. But I wouldn't expect him to hand Potter over to you any time soon, my Lord. It seems young Draco has turned traitor." His eyes shifted over to where Lucius was standing as he said this. "I located him at the Notre-Dame cathedral and managed to listen in on his conversation with Potter's mudblood witch friend before Potter returned. He seems to be rather fond of her. If I may be so bold, I would say he's beginning to love her."  
  
"No! Not my boy, not Draco! He wouldn't! He-"  
  
"SILENCE!" Voldemort roared at him, cutting Lucius off mid-tirade. "So it is as I suspected. He obviously wasn't ready for this task. It's a shame, really, he would have made a good Death Eater when he was older, if we'd waited long enough." Voldemort continued thoughtfully.  
  
"What do you mean, Lord?" Lucius asked. Then it dawned on him. "No. You can't, he's only a child!"  
  
"A child who would see me dead!"  
  
"Give him another chance, please! I can talk to him, make him see sense!" Lucius begged.  
  
Voldemort turned on him then. "Do you not understand!? You son would see me, your Master, dead! Even if he did come back, who's to say he won't switch sides again? Who's to say he won't just be acting as a spy like that other traitor Severus Snape? Can you say that?" Lucius shook his head, whimpering slightly. Voldemort spoke again, his voice softer now. "I know this must be hard for you, but it must be done. Draco's loyalties are rapidly changing. You heard Wormtail! He is beginning to fall in love with Harry's mudblood witch friend as we speak."  
  
"You mean that Granger girl?2 Lucius asked, his face a mask of revulsion.  
  
Voldemort nodded. "The very one. Lucius, Draco is tainted. There is no way for him to come back now. And now, Lucius, is for the time for you to test your loyalties." Lucius stared up at him fearfully. "Lucius, Draco must die."  
  
Lucius looked down and swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he looked up again. Slowly, he repeated his Master's words. "Draco must die." 


End file.
